Her Wedding Night
by The Grasshopper
Summary: A ring is a promise. And the promise was made.


Hiii! This is a one-shot, one chapter story. I hope you guys enjoy it! It was for a morbid story contest, mwahaha...but I don't want to give anything else away. It ended up winning first place (which I was VERY shocked about).

The Grasshopper

* * *

"Tell me a story…"

"What story?"

"Any story."

"I will tell you any story that you like."

"I don't mind which, Erik… I never mind…"

The firelight played on Christine's blonde curls as she sat cross-legged in front of the hearth and held her hands in a quiet position in her lap. She kept her eyes shyly downcast. The translucent veil hid most of her features and drew in her mouth just slightly with each breath that she took.

It was her wedding night.

"Tell me the one about the nightingale…"

"The nightingale?"

"The one that you know so well…"

There was a silence, and a rustle as her husband knelt by her side and tilted her head up so that their eyes would finally meet.

Christine could not help but giggle shyly, and her cheeks flushed. She quickly covered her mouth as her gaze shifted in embarrassment.

"Christine…"

"Yes, Erik…?" She answered softly, her words trembling with unplaced emotion. When he didn't answer she continued, "Will you play for me?"

"I think that it is time that you went to bed…" He rose, slowly, but remained standing by his wife.

For a few moments Christine did not move, and then she frowned slowly and stood, her hands wavering on the front of her lace gown. "You are sending me to bed?"

He could not look at her. "Yes."

The hurt in her voice was obvious. She blinked at him, and felt her lips tremble a bit as she asked, "Why?"

There was a sigh, and a tender touch as he took her arm and led her a few steps to the divan. "I've made you something to drink, Christine, would you like that?"

"Yes…Yes." Christine hid her relief, and smiled at her husband adoringly as he handed her a small china teacup and guided her gently to sit. "Your tea is better than any that I have ever tasted, where do you get it from?"

"Do not trouble yourself… I know how much you like it." He smiled at her endearingly and she felt her heart give a little jump.

Perhaps he didn't want her to go to bed after all!

With new hope, she set the cup aside and smiled up at him in a coy and even coquettish way. "We are married now." The word felt odd on her tongue; she wanted so much to say it again!

His tone was unreadable…but his smile remained. "Indeed we are. What would you like to do now?"

Christine thought for a moment, and then leaned back against the divan, her legs tucking up underneath her in an abundance of lace and flowing fabric. She felt him staring at her, and she enjoyed it more than she ever thought that she would. It made her feel…exhilarated. Wanted. Erik wanted her! And now he had her, and she had him, and everything was simply perfect!

"I want us to go to the seashore."

"The seashore?" She heard a strange tone in his voice, and Christine curiously met his eyes.

"Yes…wouldn't you like to go to the ocean, Erik? And see where I grew up with my father? It is so lovely there…"

"Anywhere… anywhere you want to go, we'll go…"

Christine smiled and closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and then sighed…she could almost hear the ocean… "Once you hear the sound of the waves…it never leaves you again. Once you hear…"

"Yes…"

"What do you always hear?"

After only a long silence did he answer her: "The sound of you crying…"

This knowledge surprised her. Christine opened her eyes in shock, and she had to wait a moment before responding at all… Her guilt weighed heavily on her heart… "I… I'm so sorry for what I've done to you…I cannot even begin…"

"It doesn't matter, Christine."

"It does matter! But I…I have chosen you, not Raoul…my love is for you…it will always only be for you, Erik!"

"Christine, please… I do not need to know this…" He bent, took her hands, and squeezed them gently. Christine smiled when she felt that they were not as cold as they had been before. She was warming him now.

_She would always warm him!_

"I know you don't. I love you, Erik…"

The grip on her hands tightened just slightly. She heard him reply distantly…but with that same gentleness that she was so accustomed to. "I love you…"

The clock on his mantle began to chime ominously, and Christine's head turned slightly to look at it. She hadn't even realized that it had gotten so late…everything from that day was simply a blur of memories…

"Where's Raoul?" She asked suddenly, and she felt him look at her abruptly.

"Raoul?"

Sensing the forthcoming tension, Christine quickly looked back at him and met his eyes. "I-I was just curious. I'm not thinking about him that way…" Christine paused. "I…want you, tonight…" She finished, with a very small, shy smile.

"I think that it is best that you went to bed." He dropped her hands and moved away from her. She could hear the coldness in his tone.

Both the disappointment and the sound of his voice brought tears to her eyes almost immediatly. Why was he sending her away...? It didn't make sense... Erik always loved her...he always wanted her...

"Erik, wait…please don't make me go alone, please, I…we're married now…" As much as Christine tried to keep her voice steady, it wasn't working in the slightest. A few tears even managed to escape and drop down onto the delicate lace of her dress.

She didn't even notice that there were already tearstains there.

"Erik…"

"Go!" He turned on her suddenly, and his hand slammed down on the top of the mantle so suddenly that she gasped.

_"Erik!"_

"Go to bed!" He started towards her, his hands curling and then uncurling again…as though he was restraining himself from doing something horrible…

In her shock, Christine failed to notice the sob that lay just beyond his anger.

It was impossible for her to refuse him. Fearful and beginning to weep, Christine shook as she got to her feet and held the side of the divan as she found her way blindly around it. She was reaching for the door-handle when she felt the lace on her veil catch. She paused only briefly to untangle it so that it fell from her hair.

All of her happiness was gone in a single moment.

_Erik didn't want her…_

She opened her door and stumbled inside in her childlike confusion, throwing herself back against the door so that it slammed loudly behind her and reverberated across the house.

_Erik rejected her._

Christine cried herself to sleep that night and left the candles in her room burning and throwing shadows across the empty bedroom.

Her husband later entered Christine's room as she lay sleeping and took up the wedding dress. With a heavy heart he folded the garment and hung it up in her armoire…along with the veil…as he had done every night for the past eight years.

Then Raoul de Chagny left the room and made himself a drink.

Today had been one of her bad days.

**FIN**


End file.
